


The End of Summer

by PiggyDuke



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Nondescript sex, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:52:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23814895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiggyDuke/pseuds/PiggyDuke
Summary: Lambert and Aiden seek a place for the night. Lambert is very frustrated with Aiden's behaviour, but for reasons he has yet to discover. (Mainly fluff, a bit of humour and a tiny slice of melancholy)
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 79





	The End of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by a good friend of me, but not a native speaker so please tell me if something sounds weird - Enjoy!

"Hold up, you mongrel! Duke is starting to limp again!" Lambert shouted after his companion after his horse slipped on the muddy road.

"Who are you calling a dog? Could it be me, the honourable Witcher Aiden from the School of the _Cat_? You ought to get your animals straight, little pup!" laughed the man with the wild, brown curls mockingly, the words drenched in sarcasm. Nonetheless he slowed his own mouse grey mare to a slow walk to let Lambert catch up.

"If you are more into feline nicknames, I'm going with fat tomcat," he retorted.

Aiden ignored the remark and looked intently at Lambert's horse named Duke, a black gelding with a broad blaze. Lambert had been insistent he had just adopted the previous owner's pretentious name for the horse. A habit he had picked up after he had three horses die on him within just one summer after changing their names. That year he had returned to Kaer Morhen on foot, barely making it before the first snow. Still it hadn't done anything to thwart the accident that made Duke lame. Three days ago while passing a small bridge, a noble or rich merchant had been riding towards them on a young, fiery stallion, and either the horse hadn't spend much time under the saddle yet or the man on horseback. Riled by the proximity of the other male horse and the narrowness of the way it had reared up. His rider had landed on the dirty road and his hooves on the poor gelding's shoulder. Later Lambert had inspected it, but suspected it was probably just a haemorrhage. Nevertheless it had slowed them down on their way towards Kaedwen.

"We should stop for the day and let him rest. Exhausting him won't help the healing. See that farmstead coming up? Looks like they got a big stable, and the hayloft should be filled to the brim after this summer." He pointed out three buildings that had appeared in the bend of the road. The two of them had heard the mooing of cows quite a few dozen horse spans earlier already. Lambert looked at the sun and estimated that they only would have had two more hours of sunlight and never would have made it to the next tavern at their pace anyways.

"If they let us in and don't throw their boiling soup at us, sure."

Lambert could feel Aiden rolling his eyes, even though he was only staring at the back of his head.

Slowly they rode up to the main building that was framed by a big chicken coop and the cow barn, with kids' quarreling voices and the aroma of borscht escaping through the open windows. They got off their horses and Lambert knocked on the wooden door, decorated with a garland of corn and flowers. The voices quieted down, only to errupt with new energy and excitement until a female voice reprimanded them to be silent and sit down. The door was cautiously drawn open and the face of a woman appeared. It looked round and kind, its true age only given away by the laughter lines in the corners of her friendly brown eyes. After realising what kind of profession the men in front of her persued fright crept into them.

Great, this was absolutely going great already.

"We would like to sleep in your hayloft for the night, if that's possible," breached Lambert the burgeoning awkward silence.

"Well, I don't want the cows to be restless, we need good milk to make cheese and butter for the winter." She nervously avoided his gaze.

Behind him he heard the clinking of a coinpouch and felt Aiden's hand fall on his shoulder.

"Please forgive my friend for being so brusque, good woman. His horse was kicked a few days ago and has been lame ever since and needs rest. Don't think of us as paupers, we are willing to compensate you adequately for some hay for our horses and a resting place." His charming smile was supported by the two blinking silver pieces he elegantly rolled between his fingers.

Her skepticism wavered as she glanced between the coins and his smile.

"You surely don't carry diseases? My late husband always said that Witchers are followed by the pox, my children are young, and I don't want my cows to eat hay that's tainted with ghoul blood."

"Rest assured, we bathed when we left Tretogor and the only thing tainting us is the dust of the road and our own weariness. We will leave at the crack of dawn and not trouble you in any way." He extended the hand holding the coins, winking an eye at her. Even with the two scars - one from an ekkimara and one from catching a broken branch to the face in full gallop - running from the corner of his mouth out over his left cheek like whiskers, Aiden was devilishly handsome with his mop of hazel curls, sparkling golden eyes with a hint of green the mutations weren't able to erase, a royal nose, and a youthful air, although Lambert was convinced that he was a few decades older than him. The farmer blushed and took the money from the hand wrapped in the riding glove.

"Well, alright. Put your horses on the left side of the stable. Those are the cows that aren't in calf and aren't as squeamish."

"Thank you, good woman, and Melitele's blessing on you and your house."

She hesitated for a moment, then signaled for them to wait. Through the open door they could see her swat one of her seven kids' hands away from the third of the bread that was still sitting on the table.

"Please take this. For your generosity. I'm Ilka." The fluttering of her eyelashes towards Aiden was indisputably clear. Aiden took the bread and bowed slightly.

"As the Prophet Lebioda had once said: Generosity should always be welcomed with open arms and hearts and never go without thanks, unless you want to find yourself locked out in the cold one day."

"I wouldn't have taken you Witcherfolk for men of such faith." Whatever she had wanted to add to that though was cut short by a shout and a wail. "Please forgive me, I have to look after the children." With one last sigh she took her eyes off Aiden and turned towards her offspring, threatening them with sleeping without a blanket if they didn't behave.

Lambert pulled Duke wordlessly behind him into the barn. The cows looked at them curiously and extended their snouts towards them. The straw was fresh and the animals well fed. He took off the saddle, bridle and bags and inspected the shoulder. It still felt hot, but Duke had no problems extending his leg. Maybe the trot today had been a bit too early.

"I'm gonna get our things set up and will bring some hay for the horses on the way down," Aiden announced and grabbed for Lambert's saddle bags. With the quickness of a witcher Lambert held them down.

"I can do that myself." Even he himself was surprised at the iciness of the tone. Aiden lifted his hand up in a conciliatory gesture.

"Suit yourself," he answered, his effort to sound as indifferent as possible unmissable. He turned towards the ladder, but a bold cow stopped him and licked the front of his shirt. Chuckling he stroked the animal's brown fur.

When he had returned with the fodder Lambert clambered up the ladder with his belongings to see that the other Witcher had regardless of his words formed some hay into a second mound for him to sleep on. Of course. Aiden had always been considerate towards him. That bastard.

"When you're done, I'm waiting outside with the food!"

"Yeah, I'm coming!" Quickly he spread his bedroll and arranged his saddle bags in the way he always used them to sleep on.

Aiden sat on the fence behind the barn his face turned towards the reddening sun, his eyes closed. Lambert climbed up next to him and accepted the offered half of the bread. It was good, sweet and hearty rye bread that would fill him up until tomorrow.

"You really overdid it. And two silver pennies? That shed itself is barely worth two silver pennies." He didn't know where those words had come from, but they were spoken before he had the chance to shut himself up. As usual.

The other Witcher shortly glanced at him from the side.

"Some day, Lambert, you will learn that a few pretty words can get you a lot further than you think, and a few silver coins can polish anyone's reputation when they're not used to drown oneself in vodka."

"Real sanctimonious of you." It wasn't. Lambert knew that.

Maybe Aiden had really overdone his flirting and preaching with Ilka by a bit, but he was the only Witcher he knew that payed his respects at shrines from time to time in earnest. He had explained that he didn't necessarily believed in all the humbug that spewed from every priest's mouth but he still found comfort in a few core aspects of the faith of Melitele. That after days of fighting through monsters and beasts, animal or human, he could find solace in the thought of the Virgin, Mother and Crone watching over him, that there was more to a job than the money and maybe a word of thanks. Aiden wouldn't call it a higher purpose, but his faith made him still by far the most earnestly friendly and agreeable Witcher Lambert had ever met. At times he hated him for it, other times he was glad his friend would intently listen to his thoughts and take them seriously. Hadn't it been for this trait, Lambert would not have had a travel companion for the first time in his life this summer.

They had met in spring, both unknowingly on the same contract. They had been a damn good team, but Lambert had expected them to go their separate ways once it was done. To his surprise Aiden had suggested they go on together. With his charme he could always raise the prize money on a beast so it would suffice them both, they took on contracts which alone might have meant their end, but as a team they were at any rate most successful. With less risk came also fewer repairs to his armour and his person. A good conversation and a few rounds of Gwent kept Lambert from drinking himself to sleep, saving him even more money. He couldn't deny it, although they shared the rewards, his pouch felt heavier now than at the same time last year. Even more importantly he had nearly felt content all summer, when he knew there was always someone riding next to him offering him a few nice words and jokes cleverly hidden in word plays that rivaled his own.

But then there were moments like these when Aiden used the full advantage of his charisma to get what he wanted, using honeyed words, that were meaningless in the end. When those words made the men stammer and the women blush. No doubt all that had been taught to him by whoever trained him in the School of the Cat. The name said it all. Sly, cunning and suave.

Next to him Aiden started to laugh, first quietly and then he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"What?!"

"You're jealous. You're actually jealous that she made eyes at me. You don't care about the money or my oh so holy words."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that I'm the one who wants to have a toss in the hay with her if it helps you sleep at night."

Aiden threw him a thoughtful look. Quietly, almost bashfully, he said, "That's not quite what I meant."

He didn't want to expose himself to his friend's quizzical stare any longer, jumped down from the fence and went a few steps into the bushed to relieve his bladder. What was he even going on about. When he was done he marched past Aiden throwing him only a snarky comment.

"I'm gonna wait for your ass upstairs."

In the hayloft he kicked off his boots, opened the upper part of the bisected door through which the hay would be unloaded and sucked in the rapidly cooling air. Only a few lost clouds drifted lazily in the afternoon breeze. Tonight would get cold and tomorrow he would probably wake up hoarse and with a stuffed nose. He might be immune to diseases but he had determined that all of humanity seemed to be plagued by this phenomenon and it was no illness in itself. For him it had turned into a sign that he should slowly start making his way back to Kaer Morhen whenever he first experienced it in the fading summers.

"You said you'd wait for my ass and all you're missing are your boots? I'm disappointed." Startled he spun around. He had heard Aiden approach but this comment took him by surprise. The tone of the comment. Gentle. Playful. Then he saw the smile on his friend's face, so hopeful and yet insecure. Lambert finally realized several things. The reason for his bad mood, his jealousy, and, most importantly, what Aiden had actually meant.

The other Witcher broke the awkward eye contact when he didn't react and coughed. He had just turned to opening his belt buckle when Lambert crossed the room, muttering "Fuck it" under his breath. Aiden looked at him, really looked at him, and there weren't any words necessary, because his golden-green eyes bored straight down into his soul in the most tender way possible. Lambert's hand trembled when he brought it up to his taller friend's face. The stubble of several days rough and prickly under his fingers and the scars oddly smooth. The intensity with which he felt Aiden lay his hands on his hips was near paralyzing. Suddenly he was acutely aware of the other man's presence, of the way he smelled, the heat rising from his skin, the shuddering breaths he drew.

Time seemed to slow down and at the same time jump forward. They had closed their eyes and before they knew it their lips brushed against each other, shyly testing the waters. Something inside Lambert was set aflame its heat spreading throughout him and he lost himself in the kiss. After what could have been either a few heartbeats or hours he felt Aidens hands slide down to his backside. Their lips were broken apart by their simultaneous grinning. Two Witchers, one thought.

Making love to Aiden came to him naturally. It didn't need any words, just a few looks and tugging at clothes and hands. Having fought side by side for months every move and touch came instinctually to them. Hands and lips carefully exploring their sensitive spots, arms and legs anchoring them together. The Witchers found their home in each other and for once belonged, belonged together.

Afterwards Aiden had curled up to his side, resting his head on Lamberts shoulder, idly tracing old scars. He didn't complain about the strength with which Lambert held him close. He didn't comment on the wetness that sparkled in his eyes. But he softly hummed a nonsensical melody with a gentle smile on his lips.

"I don't feel like returning to Kaer Morhen this year," he finally confessed, "But I must."

"You don't have to do a thing. It will be a few weeks before we have to split up. You can still change your mind and leave for Rivia with me."

At the sound of the city's name Lambert averted his gaze. He felt Aiden still his hand's movements and embrace him. They didn't need to say anything, they both knew what that city meant to him. A long while passed in which Lambert mulled it over in his head.

"With Geralt gone I can't just leave Leo to Vesemir and Eskel. Especially Vesemir. Leo spoke up too much about the trial last winter. He didn't want to hear anything about him being too old or the risks. I don't want any of them to get stupid ideas of which there are many on those long lonely winter nights at Kaer Morhen. Also noone's as good of a sword instructor as I am. Vesemir might have experience but is a bit stuck in his ways. Eskel is a heavy sign user, something Leo will never be able to employ. Now that just leaves me. Somebody's gotta look after that kid."

A faint laugh escaped his companion's mouth.

"What I wouldn't give to have your fellow wolfs hear that."

Lambert slapped him on the naked arm, which only made Aiden laugh harder. Quickly though he grew serious again.

"I want to see you again, Lambert. For your and mine's sake. We make each other better, you can't deny that."

"Vengerberg at Birke? I'll have to ride longer, but I know how much you like to be in comfortable warmth."

Finally he had turned back towards Aiden who grinned at him, his pupils flushed black and nearly round. He would have lied if he had said it didn't do things to him. The other man pulled himself up, placed his lips at his cheek.

"Deal," he whispered, the breath tickling the skin. They're mouths found each other again, both boldly knowing what they wanted.

"Mhm!" Lambert suddenly interrupted. Concern immediately welled up in Aiden's eyes.

"I'm sorry, did I-?"

"No, stupid, I just found the best feline name for you."

"What?"

"Lynx, 'cause their _tails_ are as short as yours."

**Author's Note:**

> If you are curious: It's set in 1269 so 1 year before Geralt's return in the games.
> 
> If you are confused about Leo and the Trial of the Grasses (because it shouldn't be possible to perform it for the Wolf School Witchers): Lambert might not be a reliable "narrator".
> 
> I appreciate every critique I get (especially about the first lines of dialogue because they kinda sound wooden, but I've now tweaked it and wrecked my brain the whole night idk how to improve it, I will leave it to your judgement), I really want to improve my writing so this would be very helpful to me.
> 
> Also if anyone has advice about the rating, I don't know if M is too high, but since sex was mentioned in that category I wanted to be on the safe side and put it there.


End file.
